Demigods

by Robert C Ray

  "You do like crab, don't you?" she asked as she shoved her hand inside of it, and pulled off the top of the shell.

  "When it's cooked," he replied, noticing that it did not look too appetizing at this stage. "I think I'll just wait upstairs."

  "Very well," she said with laughter in her voice, and then went back to dressing the crab.

  Relaxing in one of the chairs, he stared out the front, and once again tried to remember anything that might be familiar. At this point, he did not care what it was. He simply wanted to remember something, but nothing was presenting itself.

  "Dinner is ready," she said, interrupting his line of thought, yet he was quite happy to see her.

  "And what do you call it?" he asked as she handed him the crab shell that was being used to serve the dish.

  "I call it Euphoria," she said, and then sat down in the chair beside him. "I hope that you like it."

  "I'm sure that I'll love it," he replied with a smile that provoked one from her as well. "It certainly smells good."

  Poking at it with his wooden spoon, the savory aroma delighted his senses, and he could swear that he tasted it from the scent alone. It was crabmeat with mushrooms, and what looked like fried potatoes off to the side, and though he could not see the little leaves from the Happiness plant, he could definitely smell their presence.

  He first lifted one of the mushrooms to his lips, and as he began to chew it, he swore that it tasted more like steak than it did a mushroom. He could not believe how good it was, and though he wanted to go right for another one, he then spooned up a chunk of crabmeat.

  "Oh, my," he thought as he began to chew the second bite. Even though it didn't taste like steak, it was every bit as good, bursting flavor throughout his mouth as though his taste buds where everywhere. Euphoria, he thought, was the perfect name for it.

  "I have never tasted anything so good," he told her, and was delighted by the full, bright smile that she threw his way. "You are a master chef."

  "I am so happy that you like it," she said, and then began to eat from her own shell.

  Glancing her way between bites, he admired how gracefully she ate. Certainly, it did not matter what she did, because the result would always be the same.

  Once they had finished their dinner, she took his shell, and set them both on the floor beside her. When she did, Playful came out of nowhere, and scurried them out the back.

  "She likes to lick the bowls," she told him, leaning back in the chair to relax.

  "I can understand why," he replied as he leaned back with her. "I was tempted to lick it myself."

  Having sat there for about the space of thirty minutes, making idle conversation about the jungle, the beach, and the ocean, he began to feel strangely odd. His head began to feel light, and his body tingled all over with a sensation that filled him with delight.

  "I want to show you something," she said as she stood, and grabbed a sack of something that had been against the wall, before walking out the front.

  Standing up to follow her, the feelings intensified. It was not as though he was dizzy, and they were not unpleasant feelings at all. In fact, it was a rather euphoric feeling, like walking on clouds, and everything around him seemed a bit more interesting than they had before.

  "What was in the food?" he asked, wearing a perpetual grin as he ran his fingers through his hair.

  "Happiness," she answered smiling back at him, while never breaking her stride.

  "Happiness, indeed," he thought as she led him out into the thickness of the jungle.

  Passing by trees, he put his hands on them, feeling the rough bark. They felt like they usually did, yet the feeling was intensified, as if it were the first time, he had ever touched anything.

  Making his way through the foliage did not seem to be a bit of a problem either, as he seemed as light-footed as ever. He almost felt as though it was where he belonged.

  What an unusual feeling it was; Like being intoxicated, while perfectly aware and nimble at the same time, and he accepted it as not an unpleasant thing.

  Watching her as she walked ahead of him, he found that her beauty was also enhanced by the effect, and as if she knew this, she would occasionally smile back at him. Either that, or she was playfully laughing at him.

  "So where are you taking me this time?"

  "It is a place I call Contentment," she answered as she sat on an old, fallen tree, and swung her legs in an elegant fashion to the other side. "I think you will like it."

  Taking a more direct approach, he placed one hand on the log, and hopped over, and as he did, he began to notice the sound of rushing water.

  Gradually as he followed her, the noise grew louder, and it soon became apparent that it was more than a casual river. He thought that it might be the sound of rapids, until a little way further he stepped out into a clearing, and saw it in all its splendor.

  It was the most beautiful waterfall imaginable, as the clear water crept down the side of the mountain, and then gently fell in three different places into the waiting pool below.

  "Wow," was about all he could say as he looked up at it, and he decided right then that the island, as real as it was, was also a place of fantasy.

  "So you like it?" she asked as she pinned half of her hair back with a bright red flower, and he felt his knees getting weak. Sure, she knew what it did to him, but it seemed to tickle her so.

  Lying on the ground, he rested on one elbow, and took in the sight. There were flowers of all kinds and colors blooming in various places, as if the falling water drew them there, and a rainbow in the fine mist smiled down on them.

  Gracefully, a butterfly fluttered by as if to complete the perfect picture.

  "This place always brings me peace," she said as she laid down beside him in a way that seemed innocent, though sensual as well.

  Finding himself wanting to hold her, he lay on his back, and closed his eyes. Although it was an attempt to fight back his instincts, he found that it only made it easier to imagine, so he sat back up, and stood to his feet.

  "The water is so clear," he stated, having stepped to the edge, and brushed his toes across the surface.

  Kneeling down, he cupped his hand, and raised some to his mouth. It was remarkably cool and refreshing, and tasted as pure as water can.

  "It's truly remarkable," he said as he turned, and walked over to sit beside her, but all she did was smile.

  "I guess it's only natural," he continued, "that a woman like yourself would live in such a beautiful place."

  He almost expected her to blush again, yet this time she did not. This time she looked straight into his eyes, and simply said, "thank you."

  All he could do was sit there, and stare, admiring her perfect face. Even though she had no make-up, there was not a single flaw to be found, and refreshing was the word he would use to describe her.

  Just when he thought that he could contain his emotions no longer, she stood and walked over to the rippling pool, and from it, she pulled out a net with the clams in it. Bringing them back, and setting them down in front of him, she took a seat on the opposite side. Apparently, she had been busy while he slept.

  First, she pulled two stones from the sack that she had brought, and they looked as though they were broken from a single, round and flat stone, with one rounded side that tapered down into a curved, sharp edge on each of them. Then she pulled two clams from the net, and handed him one, along with one of the stones.

  "Just work the stone into its shell," she explained as she cupped the clam in her palm, and held the stone in place with her fingers, "and then tap it lightly on the ground."

  With ease, it surrendered, and she pried it open with her fingers before setting it on the ground near the rest of the clams.

  "I will let you start on these," she told him as she stood with the stone still in her hand, "while I get the fire started."

  He began opening the clams, and though he had no trouble with the task, it took him a bit longer than it
had for her. This was not so much because she had done it so quickly, but rather that he was far more interested in watching what she was doing.

  Palming the blunt end of the stone, she walked up to a nearby tree, and began to shave small strips from the bark. Little by little, she gathered a large handful, and then walked to a bare spot along the shore that showed signs of once holding fire, and set the kindling beside it.

  "Are they giving you any trouble?" she asked as she made her way back to the tree line, and he could not help but to smile back.

  "Not at all," he replied, noticing that he had only managed to open three of them, and then he watched her vanish into the jungle.

  Sure, he could now concentrate on what he was doing, but the effects of whatever she had drugged him with had made her seem more beautiful than ever, despite the fact that she looked just as she had from the beginning. He quickly found, that thoughts of her were more intensified as well, and he performed his task with a smile.

  Casually he opened the clams, not caring who he was at the moment. All he cared about was her right now, and he began to wonder if the feelings that were growing inside of him were actually love, or just an overbearing infatuation. Perhaps it was even the happiness plant that was causing these feelings, but he could not explain away his attraction to her. He did not think about it for too long, because he was simply happy to be feeling such a pleasant emotion.

  A few clams later, she emerged from the trees carrying a bundle of wood, and went straight for the small fire pit. Setting them on the ground, she began to pull the thinnest branches, and stacked them in the shape of a teepee upon the old coals.

  Once this was done, she walked back over to him, and pulled two rough, gray stones from the sack before smiling down at him.

  "I will need your help when the fire is big enough," she told him, and then turned back to what she was doing.

  "Just say when," he replied, having forgotten what he was doing just that quickly, and for a moment, he really did not care.

  In an almost sensuous way, she descended upon one knee, and began to strike one of the stones against the other. Gently a small shower of sparks fell upon the bundle of kindling, and only moments later, small ribbons of smoke could be seen rising from it.

  When she raised it to her lips, and began to blow lightly upon it, he became paralyzed where he sat. It was as if she had blown a precious kiss, and he was the flame that sprang forth, entrapped within her delicate hands.

  Then she placed the small fame at the bottom of the wood, and in only a few moments, the fire began to grow.

  "How are things going?" she asked as she walked back, and sat down beside him, and quickly he snapped back to his senses.

  Looking down, he found that he had only managed to open six of them, and could only reply, "slowly."

  "Good things come to those who wait," she told him, and he wondered if she was referring to the clams.

  Reaching back into the sack, she pulled what appeared to be a small, flint knife with a wooden handle bound with a leather strap. Then she picked up one of the clams, and began to skillfully peal it away from half of its shell.

  "Do you like clams?" she asked as she set it down, and began to work on the second one.

  "I think I would like anything you make," he replied, though he did not know if he liked them or not. All he knew was that the sound of them did not seem as pleasant as when she asked him about the crab.

  At this, she threw him a glance that seemed to indicate that she knew he was not being completely honest, with tightened lips, and squinting eyes that only increased the variety of her beauty. Quickly, however, it transformed into a playful smile.

  "That is very kind of you to say," she told him as she turned her eyes back to what she was doing.

  For a moment he simply watched her, until he finally realized that she was catching up to him, so he began opening the few clams that remained. When he had finished the last one, she was waiting, and when she reached for it, she ran her fingers softly across his, as if to do so intentionally.

  "Happiness is intoxicating, isn't it?" she stated, and he could not agree with her more.

  Once she finished the final one, she went back to the fire, and with a thick branch, she began to push the burning wood into a semicircle.

  "I could use your help now," she said, and he was quickly up, and at her side like a hungry, lost puppy.

  Stepping to the water's edge, she pointed out a large stone in the shallow water.

  "Could you put it in the center for me?" she asked, and he determined that he would do just about anything she might ask of him.

  "Certainly," he replied, and began to remove his shirt to perform such a task, unaware that she stood there admiring his athletic form.

  Stepping into the water, he stood there for a moment, and let out a small shiver. It was certainly cold, and goose bumps began to form on his arms. Even the air above the water seemed much cooler, and as he reached down, and grabbed the large stone, he felt its full effect.

  Bracing himself, he pulled it up with a grunt, and made his way out of the water as quickly as he could. He welcomed the heat of the flames when he set the stone in the center, and decided to stand there for a moment to collect some of its gentle warmth.

  The beauty stood there before him giggling with her hand over her mouth, and when he tried to tell her that the water was cold, she simply pointed at his waist. When he looked down, he could see that the wet stone had made it appear as though he had peed in his shorts, and he could not help but to smile.

  "If you jump in the water," she told him as she continued to chuckle, "it will look normal."

  "Yeah," he replied, "but I don't think that's going to happen."

  Then he turned, and found a place to sit, closer to the flames.

  Reaching for some of the larger pieces of wood, she began to build the fire around the wet stone, and it did not take long before the water began to steam away.

  "We have some time before it gets hot enough," she told him, and then turned back to the pool, "and I am not afraid of the water."

  All he could do was sit there, and watch, as she dropped her fur garments, and dove straight in. Suddenly the water seemed a bit warmer than it was at first, and he did not need to be in there to figure that out.

  Quickly she resurfaced, treading the water in the center of the pool. With her long hair slicked back, and angelic smile, her blue eyes shone brightly, and he suddenly wanted to be near her. A quick shiver, however, caused him to pause.

  Then he watched as she vanished again, though this time she arose in a place he had not anticipated. He could not see her very well, because the cascade did well to conceal her, and as she stepped up onto an earthen ledge, her silhouette was as beautiful as ever.

  Playfully she spun around, and danced within the gently falling water, enveloped by its simple passion. While the drug played with his senses, her euphoric nature tugged at his heart, and he felt compelled to join her. Every ounce of strength that he had was required to resist.

  Then, without warning, she dove through the waterfall, and resurfaced once again in the center of the pond. This time the choice would not be his own, as she raised her hand, and with her index finger, she motioned for him to come. Instantly he was under her spell, and resistance was not an option.

  Standing to his feet, he smiled back at her as he made his way to the water. Taking that first step in, however, caused him to rethink what he was doing, but the thought of disappointing her gave him the strength to continue.

  Slowly the water got deeper and deeper, and each step brought a greater level of cold, until it finally reached his more sensitive parts. This caused his teeth to chatter, and he quickly turned around.

  "I can't do it," he told her while inching his way back to the shore, but before he could make it out, she wrapped her arms around him, and rested her chin on his shoulder.

  "I can keep you warm," she whispered, and though her body was cold, he could c
ertainly feel her warmth, yet it was short lived. Without warning, she fell backwards with her feet leveraged against his own, and pulled her captured prey into the frigid water.

  Finding no footing he kicked his feet to stay afloat, and the sudden cold froze his breath for a moment. He could not believe that she had actually done that, and she seemed quite pleased with herself, as she giggled beside him.

  "You little fiend," he said as he laughed, and shivered at the same time, but her only response was a devious grin. He could not help but to admire her childish charm, though he found that difficult to do when she playfully splashed at him, and then vanished beneath the surface.

  Looking in all directions, he could not see where she had gone. All he knew was that she was down there somewhere, and he was beginning to wonder what she was up to.

  Slowly he made his way to the falling water that had the ledge behind it, thinking that she might resurface there again, but when he reached it, he could find her nowhere.

  Then he saw her. She was standing beside the fire with her furs back on, simply smiling at him, and he no longer felt the chill of the cold water. All he could feel now was the infatuation that was growing inside of him, and it was all that he needed. Who he was was not as important as whom she was, and he quickly made his way back to her.

  "What was that for?" he asked while finding his way up the shore, but she simply laughed, without offering any true response.

  "The stone is ready," she told him, and then reached for the bag that she had brought. From it, she pulled the long, green leaves that she had gotten from the river, and when she reached the stone, she began to carefully lay them out upon it.

  Steam began to rise from them as she started to gather the clams, and he was quick to help her.

  "Just break off the top," she told him while demonstrating, and when she reached the stone again, she placed it face down on one of the leaves. "And that is all there is to it."